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Phantasmagoria by Viopathartic
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Phantasmagoria

Viopathartic

Phantasmagoria

Viopathartic

A/N: Umm…read?


"Hermione," he whispered coarsely. She attempted to smile and tightened her hold on his hand. She looked miserable. Her hair was messily tied back into a ponytail without any brushing. Her pale complexion made her scratches and bruises more noticeable.

Harry couldn't recall how he made it back to the Hospital Wing. Last thing he remembered was sitting with Hermione against the tree, reminiscing about moments with Ginny. Perhaps he had fallen asleep, and Hermione had brought him back and now he was awake again.

"Ron didn't make it."

"What?" Harry sat up, wincing at the pain from his injuries. He was perplexed at what Hermione meant by saying "didn't make it." Make what? Harry had seen Ron already.

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Hermione softly. She mistook his expression as surprise over Ron's apparent death.

"Impossible. It can't be. He was here yesterday!"

"You should know already, Harry. This was final battle; there was bound to be casualties," explained Hermione, stroking his hand as she clasped it with both of hers.

"No, I mean it's impossible because Ron was the one who told me that Ginny died."

Hermione released his hand. Her expression was utter confusion.

"Harry, Ginny's alive."

"Hermione, this is not funny," warned Harry as his eyes narrowing.

Honestly, what was happening? He remembered distinctly; he had woken to find Ron by his bedside. Then he told him that Ginny died, and Harry went up to get Ginny's stuff and found the potion.

"Why in the world would I joke about any of this?" asked Hermione angrily, tears threatening to start up again.

Was it all a dream?

No, no! Ginny's death seemed so real. He remembered Hermione's hug, remembered her sweet scent when she buried her head against his chest.

But then again…this seemed real. Harry reached a hand up and brought it against Hermione's cheek. He felt her soft, warm skin. Yes, she was real. She froze for a second before bringing her hand against his. "Harry?"

"It was a dream then. I dreamt that Ginny had died…and you were there for me when I needed you. I-was it a dream?" he asked more to himself than Hermione.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but watched as Harry shook his head. "This is just a dream. I'm positive."

"Harry. Stop it," she said in a low voice, gazing into his eyes.

His eyes stared at her but he wasn't really seeing her. Ron shouldn't have died; he promised them. All of three of them had promised to each other that they would survive the war and after, they'd live together in the wizarding world.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron was a trio. Always and forever. They can't be a duo, because it wouldn't be right.

"He broke the promise," whispered Harry in awe.

"Oh Harry," her eyes softened and she held his hands in hers.


Next thing he knew, Harry was outside on the grounds, taking a walk around the lake. He had escaped the wing while lunch was supposed to be in progress (oddly, there was no one there).

He saw someone by the tree, feeling as if it was déjà vu. He shook his head.

Just a dream. He knew Hermione was not at the tree because the figure was smaller.

Also, the person had long red, fiery hair.

It was then that he knew he was in some sort of dream. This was the exact spot Hermione had sat. It was impossible for Ginny to be here. And if the events were the same except the person who died, than Harry would bet anything that Ginny was at the tree.

Any moment now, he would wake up to world where there was no longer a Ginny Weasley. Maybe she wanted to tell him something in the dream and that was why he was here. Harry also wanted to thank her despite of what she had done to him. She saved Hermione, and he had to be thankful.

By why would she make him dream that Ron was dead?

He decided he would find out himself. If she was just part of the dream, he'll have to convince her go on. Harry quickly closed the distance and reached the tree, finding out that his suspicion was indeed correct.

"Ginny," he tersely greeted his ex-girlfriend.

Harry stood with his hands in his pockets, his head tilted towards the sky. The sun was partially obscured by the pattern of the tree branches. He was rather reluctant to deal with her now; ever since he "found" the potion. He wanted to yell at her and tell her off. Now he knew he could never do it--not right now; she was in a delicate situation.

He felt Ginny stiffen, acknowledging his presence by her side.

"Hello, Harry." Her voice was thick with emotion as she answered him. In an unlady-like gesture, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Harry knew that she was usually a presentable young woman who took care in her appearance. But ever since Ron had been mur--had passed away, Ginny seemed to have lost her care.

The air around them was tense; this was the first time Harry and she had really been alone. The other times there were students or either Hermione or Ron with them. They never really discussed anything other than the war. Ginny wanted to, of course, but Harry didn't show a sign of profound emotion towards her.

"I suppose, you've heard," Ginny said in the same tone as Harry had addressed her with. He didn't really care about how she felt towards him; he just wanted to see if she needed comforting.

Though the two would never admit, Ginny and Ron shared a unique sibling bond. Ron was fiercely protective of his sister but when addressed about it, he would dismiss it with an air of contempt. He and his sister were closer in age and loved each other.

"Yes."

"And you seem devastated!" snarled Ginny sarcastically.

Harry slid down so that he was sitting beside her. He felt her shift away but didn't say anything.

"Of course I am," he said succinctly. If she was going to act so cold towards him, he might as well play the same game. "Ron was my best friend."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And you're doing nothing but sitting in the Hospital Wing, chatting with Hermione."

"Pardon me but did I not just fight Voldemort a few days ago?" Harry snarled, clenching his hand in his pockets.

Ginny, having no comeback to his comment, slumped against the trunk and stayed quiet.

Harry sighed. What a great start to a conversation, he thought.

"Listen. Ron was my best friend. My first friend. If you're saying that I'm not feeling one ounce of regret, pain, or anger, then you sure as hell don't know me at all," he said to her.

Ginny looked apologetically at him and said, "I-sorry. But Ron-"

She closed her eyes. "My brother's gone. Forever."

Harry shuddered. Forever. He remembered that he said it yesterday.

Harry listened as Ginny recounted her childhood with her brother. He felt like laughing when she told him the time when Ron's head got stuck in the large cookie jar because he wanted to eat the crumbs when he was four. Mrs. Weasley had to cast an engorgement charm for Ron to get his head out. Harry felt like crying when Ginny told him how Ron held her when they found out their grandmother had passed away when he was 10 and she was nine. He felt proud when Ginny recounted Ron's last minutes alive.

"He fought like a crazed man," Ginny said, her eyes glinting in memory. The wind picked up a bit, lightly caressing her fiery red hair.

"He was yelling as he took out three Death Eaters at the same time. He wanted you to live because you were the one who was supposed to defeat Voldemort."

She looked over at him and smiled through teary eyes. "And you did."

Harry nodded jerkily, holding back the tears that were trying to escape. Ron. His best friend was finally a hero. He remembered the first time when Ron had sacrificed his life to let him move on. It was in first year against the Wizard's chess board when Ron's brilliancy in strategy had saved all three lives.

"Don't do that, Harry," Ginny suddenly said, "Don't hold back your tears. You could cry if you want. It's only me."

"No, no," Harry sniffed. "I'm okay."

Truth was; he didn't want to cry--not in front of her. Where's Hermione, Harry thought.

"Are we ever going to get back together again?" asked Ginny abruptly.

Something inside of him broke. How dare she ask that?

"You can't fake love...Ginny," Harry spat, looking at her straight in the eye. "Love is not like that, it's not a game." Emotions that were held down by Ron's death had suddenly began to rise. Anger at nothing in particular forced the words from his mouth and he just wanted them to hit Ginny.

When her eyes widen, Harry knew that she knew he knew.

"Harry," she began, hesitantly placing a hand on his knee before pulling it away. "I'm so sor--"

"So sorry, I know. Hermione told me you would be…" said Harry before he could stop himself.

"S-she knew?"

Harry looked at his ex-girlfriend and saw she was indeed apologetic. Instead of answering her question, he said, "I couldn't believe it at first. Didn't want too. Why Ginny? Why?"

Tears began to show. "Because I love you, Harry."

Ginny hesitated. "And I know you used to love me too."

"I don't think I ever did," he snapped back, "your potion messed me up. My feelings were played with." He tore his gaze away from his ex-girlfriend. "You were never really in love with me, Ginny. It was a mere crush."

He lowered his voice. "But I didn't come here to talk to you about that. I wanted to thank you,"

"What the bloody hell are you barking on about?" Her voice was angry now.

Dream Ginny was the same as real-life Ginny.

"For saving Hermione. She's alive because of you. Thank you."

"You have to move on now. I know that you said what you wanted to so you should move on now. Okay?" He was referring to the "other side".

Ginny's hurt look turned to pure confusion. "Harry?"

"Your message. I understand. Okay? I know that you're sorry, okay? You shouldn't stay here anymore. Go and see your brothers again and if you see my mother, father, Sirius and…well, say hi to them for me," Harry whispered, remembering a book that said it was hard for the dead to except that they're…well, dead.

"What are you talking about?"

Ginny grabbed onto Harry's shoulders and hissed, "You're not right in the head right now, Harry. What do you-"

"Go, Ginny. I'll take care of Ron and Hermione. Everyone will be fine. Don't stay anymore," he whispered loudly.

"You're talking crazy. Are you-are you Harry? You're not; I can tell. I can-"

She didn't finish her sentence, because she was already reaching into her pocket to pull out her wand.

And Harry knew no more.


This is very weird, isn't it?

I'm probably losing my touch and mind.

Hehehe.